


Dear Granger, Love Pansy

by onlykatelyn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas Fluff, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 11:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16952943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlykatelyn/pseuds/onlykatelyn
Summary: Pansy Parkinson writes a series of letters to the girl she’s become head over heels for. It’s ok, because she’ll never actually read them...right?**A Winner of the Best Drarry as a Background Couple Work of the 2018 Drarry Awards**





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Mild infidelity, but it all works out in the end, I promise!

Dear Granger,

I saw the way you kissed him today. It was in the eighth year common room, beneath an array of Christmas lights we’d just finished hanging. The tree twinkled in the background; I sat on the couch in earnest.

Your face was brighter than any of the decorations floating above our heads; the way your lips pulled into a wide grin at the success of our charms was captivating.

I almost crossed the room to take your hand and enjoy them with you. Almost.

But then the door flung open, and a crowd of sweaty students entered with excited chatter of the Quidditch game they just finished. And your focus shifted from the decorations to the red-head that immediately took your side.

Your eyes were soft, the deepest shade of chocolate against those adorably frizzy brown curls. They looked deeply into his. And I tried to look away.

But some masochistic part of me (probably my Slytherin heritage) couldn’t peel my gaze from you and your lover.

He rested a hand against your cheek, stroking fingers lightly in a soft caress that made you blush. A moment later, he’d leaned forward to match his lips to yours. And I watched, like some creeper from one of those muggle movies you’d shown me. I hated myself for looking, but you just seemed so happy. And I couldn’t help but picture, if only just for a moment, that instead of Ron Weasley, you were kissing me.

I don’t mean to divulge these feelings to you for I know that it would make you uncomfortable and that’s the last thing on my agenda for the day. In fact, I’ll probably just cast a quick incendio on this letter as soon as I put my quill down.

But it’s nice to pretend, isn’t it? For instance, I can lie to myself and make believe that I’m going to march up to the library, find you at the most secluded table, and throw this letter at you. And then you’ll read it, your brow furrowed in concentration (it’s adorable when you do that, really), and when you sit the parchment on the table, our eyes will meet.

Then we’ll be snogging senseless. Madam Pince will probably try to stop us, but you’ll give her two fingers. And then you’ll press me on the table in that feisty way of yours, and...

Okay, so my daydreams get a little out of character sometimes. You can’t blame a girl for dreaming, hm?

Anyway, I’ve got to go. Sinistra’s got a hell of a parchment roll due tomorrow that I haven’t even started. Who am I kidding? You’ve probably had it done for weeks.

Love,  
Pansy

&&&

Dear Granger,

Today, Slughorn had us break into pairs while we brewed the antidote for a dark kind of love potion. I thought you’d choose Weasley, but your knowing smile flashed in my direction told me otherwise.

Ronald appeared momentarily disappointed before joining Potter. My heart skipped a beat at this small opportunity, fluttering in a medically concerning murmur as you approached my desk.

We bumped hands twice while working.  
The first time, you reached for the worm root that I’d just finished slicing. Your fingers ran softly against my posterior hand before immediately jerking back. My stomach dropped until I glanced at your face.

You were blushing. You felt it, too. Don’t ask me “what,” Granger. You know perfectly well. The sparks, white hot electricity burning with each touch. I’ve never felt it before you.

The second time, you let your hand linger a little longer. When I caught you staring, you squeezed my hand in a friendly manner before continuing to stir clockwise. Maybe you hadn’t felt them at all, and I’m just crazy. My pending insanity, probably the more likely scenario.

When our potion was complete, bubbling a neon hue of magenta, you squealed in delight. Every academic excellency holds its own individual high for you, and that in itself is enchanting to me. You have a goal, and you reach it. No if, ands, or buts about it.

...are you sure you weren’t meant for Slytherin?

I wonder how different things would’ve turned out had you been sorted with me from the beginning. Would we have become friends before the war? Or something more?

Alas, it’s probably for the best. Lord knows Potter and Weasley depended on you to defeat the Dark Lord. And I’m honestly grateful you were there to help them.

God knows I wasn’t. I was a coward who was too terrified of my own father to stand up for what was right. To stand up for you.

I’m just glad you’ve found it in your heart to forgive me. Even if a friendship is all we ever share, I’ll take it to my grave.

Love,  
Pansy

P.S. You really should consider me as your permanent potions partner. I’m good luck, you know.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Granger,

You invited me to study with you in the library today. Winter Hol’s are coming up soon, and you’re trying to prepare for any pop quizzes they might come to torture us with.

I agreed happily, taking my Arithmancy notes. Why you conned me into taking that class, I’ll never know. It’s much too boring to hold my interest. What do you need it for, anyway?

Are you still thinking about going into magical law? Maybe I’ll ask you about that tomorrow. I myself have no real plans for my future outside of Hogwarts. My mother will likely try to pawn me off to some rich pure blood male who would make “great offspring for the Parkinson blood line,” but I have other ideas in mind.

Maybe I’ll travel. I’ve always wanted to see America. Or maybe I’ll rent a flat somewhere downtown and experience the London city life.

Do you want to know what the fucked up part about it all is?

It doesn’t matter what I picture myself doing; I always see myself doing it with you.

And I’m sure that deep down you dream of carrot top babies and Christmas’s at the Burrow. Time spent with your friends and family.

I just wish I was a part of that vision, you know? But I don’t fault you, Granger. You’ve been more than a saint to me, and I shouldn’t ask for more.

My lack of pride embarrasses me. I swear, I don’t want or need your pity. Even if I sound absolutely pathetic with every line I write here. It’s a good thing you’ll never actually read this.

Love (and a huge sigh),  
Pansy

&&&

Dear Granger,

Draco told me a secret today. I suppose he’s my equivalent of Harry to you, so you must understand how excited I was when he confessed his undying love for Potter to me.

That’s right. He’s absolutely bloody smitten with the savior of the Wizarding World. It was nice to commiserate, watching you both from a distance. Do you think he has a chance?

Do you think, if things were different, that we would?

Regardless of what might have been, we’re planning a party for the eighth years tonight as I write this. I should probably start getting things ready and take some of the load off of your shoulders.

God, Granger, you’re the only one I know that could take a party so seriously.

Haha.

Love, Pansy

&&&

Dear Granger,

Last night was interesting, to say the least. A few bottles of Firewhiskey in, and I knew that anything was possible.

Our group’s drunkenness began with Finnigan, who really needs to learn to pace his little Irish arse. I sat next to Blaise as we all settled in a circle. Watching him flirt with everything that walked on two legs was entertaining in its own right, but I couldn’t help but glance in your direction.

Weasley placed a peck on your cheek and slung an arm around your shoulder. Next to him was Potter, who I happened to notice staring in the direction of a certain blonde on my other side.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to me. Fate may have not been so nice to us, but I could take things into my own hands if it meant seeing my best friend happy.

When the firewhiskey bottle emptied, I borrowed it from Dean Thomas and inconspicuously spelled it to land on the person with whom the spinner shared the most chemistry.

Yes, I know spells like that off the top of my head. I’m a Slytherin, remember?

Anyway, I’ve confessed my dirty deed to you, Granger. The next hour was all my fault.

“Okay, guys, who’s up for spin the bottle?” I asked, and several hoops and hollers rang from the crowd. With a knowing smirk, I placed the bottle in the middle of the circle. “Blaise?” I gestured to my right, signaling him to begin the game.

The God of Sex himself flicked his wrist and sent the bottle whirling about the crowd. I sat back, arms folded and curious to see Blaise’s match.

What I wasn’t expecting was for it to land right next to you.

He flashed your boyfriend a wide grin, eyebrows raised challengingly.

“Don’t look so sick, Weasley. You know you’ll like it.”

“No way! I’m not kissing him!” He glanced to you for help, but you threw up your hands matter-of-factly.

“Rules are rules, Ronald. And you were just eager to play only minutes ago!”

“Well, that was before-“

“Where’s your courage at now, Gryffindor?” Blaise tilted his chin up facetiously. He truly was enjoying himself.

Ron, who’d turned red as a Christmas sweater, slowly shuffled off of you and made his way to meet Blaise in the middle.  
Harry, I happened to notice, was laughing beside him.

He looked like he might explode at any moment as Blaise flirtatiously brought a hand to Weasley’s cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips touched briefly before Ron forcibly separated them, crawling back to you with an expression of disgust.

“I’ll have to wash my mouth out with soap!” He was muttering, but I could see past that. There was something uneasy in those blue eyes, something enchanted by the bottle. By that kiss.

You rolled your eyes at him, smirking flippantly as if he’d gotten something he deserved. His arm never found its way back to your shoulder.

Seamus had to kiss Dean, who drunkenly went for a grope as well. You made a face in disapproval, but I could see the smile tugging at your lips.

You were having fun. Surrounded by your classmates, doing something reckless and irresponsible and momentous. I loved seeing this side of you.

Neville kissed Ginny. Luna kissed Ginny. And that’s when I realized two things: one, that my predicament is possibly not all that rare; and two, no one cares to realize that Luna’s not even an eighth year.

Potter’s spin was one that I thought would never end. The bottle teetered back and forth across several individuals, and for a moment I wondered if I’d been wrong about everything.

But then, I felt Draco stiffen beside me as the bottleneck came to a halt on his behalf. I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my own lips; it seemed that plan Draco and Harry was deeming a success.

Potter grinned; Draco hyperventilated. Having a Malfoy as your childhood best friend is entertaining, to say the least. I elbowed him sharply to remind him not to make a complete fool of himself as Harry crossed the circle.

Perhaps it was the firewhiskey, but those two met lips as if no one was watching. It started with Harry leaning over Draco, who sat frozen to the spot. He smiled softly at the blonde before placing a hand on his neck and pulling him forward.

The entire room held its breath as the Savior of the Wizarding World and the Ex-Death Eater swapped tongues. They didn’t bother to hide the impending attraction they shared; wrapping arms around each other and gripping for dear life.

I couldn’t help but cat call.

Sneaking a look in your direction, a soft smile had found its place on your lips. You were genuinely happy for them. For once, I felt like I’d done something right.

As if a sign from above, a completely pissed Seamus interrupted your turn by attempting to allow himself another one. Apparently snogging Dean Thomas was a new past time for him; he blatantly grabbed the glass and went to point it at his best friend deliberately. All the while, he was laughing himself positively silly.

The miracle of it all occurred when he dropped the bottle, shattering it on the floor. We were much too drunk for a simple reparo, so the game immediately came to a close.

A sigh of relief escaped me throat. I hadn’t realized exactly how nervous I’d been to see who your turn would land on. Deep down, I knew that you’d be kissing Weasley for the hundredth time, but that didn’t stop my heart from racing emphatically.

The rest of the night was a breeze. Most of us passed out shortly afterward; you headed back to your four poster in our shared dorm. The exception was a very handsy Harry Potter, who spent the rest of his drunken stupor placing himself all over Draco Malfoy.

Feeling accomplished, I followed you upstairs. Even if my own fate was fuzzy, at least I’d played a part in someone else’s happiness. I slept well that night, listening to your soft snores from across the room as I slipped into an inevitable slumber.

Want to know a secret? The constant rhythm of your breathing made me feel whole. All it takes is your presence to brighten my day. Thank you for that.

Love,  
Pansy


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Granger,

To be quite frank, I am freaking the fuck out. You see, I’m writing you this letter because I’m far too much of a coward to tell you what I just saw. Holy fuck, I don’t even understand what’s happening.

I got out of advanced charms early today and headed back to the common room before dinner. I expected the place to be empty, but as I approached the door, I heard voices that were immediately recognizable.

“We need to talk, Blaise.”

“About what?”

“About that kiss last week.”

I froze instantly, buckling down to listen in on the privacy of their conversation. Something inside me told me to stay hidden, and that’s exactly what I did.

“What about it, Weasley? It was just a game. And, if I remember correctly, you hated it.”

“Blaise, I- you know what? I thought that you- well, no, I-“

“Spit it out, bro.”

“I didn’t hate it, okay!? And I know you didn’t. You kissed me like you bloody loved it!”

My eyes widened, I’m sure. My heart pounded until it was pulsing in my ears. I couldn’t bring myself to move.

“First off, Weasley, don’t mistake experience for affection.” I could hear the offended cues of Blaise Zabini dripping from his tongue.

“Bullshit, Blaise. I felt it. You felt it. There was something there, and I don’t know what to do, because just yesterday I was with Hermione and Harry was straight and I didn’t have these damn feelings for you!”

Silence hung thick in the air. I gulped down the breath I’d been holding.

“Well, first of all, Potter is the farthest thing from straight. You’re his best friend, and you couldn’t see that?”

“What? No, of course I couldn’t! I just, I don’t know...”

“I’m sure you thought you were straight too, huh?” I could hear Blaise’s cunning smile through the door.

“Thought I was? I am! Right? I am, aren’t I?”

Another spell of silence. I wondered what in the hell was happening and pressed my face against the crack of the door. My view was limited, but I could easily make out the shapes of Ron and Blaise in the middle of the common room.

Blaise was awfully close to Ron. He was closer, closer...

Oh my fucking God, what the fuck did I see? I saw one of my best friends kiss your boyfriend. And instead of pushing him away, I saw him pull him closer.

Fuck.

I gasped, realizing what in the fuck I’d just done. Placing a hand on my mouth to keep silent, I continued to watch as they separated.

“No, Weasley, you’re not straight.” And, with another grin, Blaise exited the room.

I charmed that bottle to see my best friend happy. I had no idea that by doing so, I would completely ruin your world.

Should I tell you? Should I keep this information to myself and wait to see how things unfold?

Everything in me wants to keep this from you. But that voice, that deep down conscience that you have seemed to instill within me, says otherwise.

It says that you have a right to know. Even if you hate me. Even if it’s all my fault. Even if it means I lose what relationship I have with you.

I’m no Gryffindor, and I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to do so. But please, no matter what, know that I had the best of intentions.

I really do mean that.

Love,  
Pansy

&&&

Dear Granger,

The past few days have been utter hell. There’s only two more weeks until holiday, and I can’t bear to see you leave. Not without knowing the truth.

You came to me today, tears in your eyes. “Ronald’s been acting funny, lately,” you said. I played dumb, like the arsehole that I am.

“He seems distant,” you elaborated, “He barely looks in my direction. I wish he would just tell me what’s going on. We hunted horcruxes together, for Merlin’s sake. You think he’d have the decency to tell me what’s wrong, you know?”

I nodded, fully aware.

“You know, I don’t know what I’d do without you, Pansy. It’s so nice to have you to talk to about these things. About anything, really. You’ve been a great friend to me, and I hope I never have to part from you.”

You smiled a soft, crooked smile that had my stomach doing somersaults. Whether that was my undeniable love for you or my conscience, I can’t be sure.

“Of course, Granger. I’m not going anywhere. Loyalty always has been one of my strong suits.”

“Okay, Hufflepuff.” You grinned widely, and we both lost ourselves in a giddy guffaw. For a moment, I forgot that I’d completely betrayed you. Instead, I pretended that we would stay this way forever.

I’m so sorry, Granger. I don’t expect forgiveness from you this time.

Love,  
Pansy


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Granger,

This letter finds me in one of the lowest spots I’ve been in a while.

Today, Ronald Weasley broke your heart. I pretended not to know why he’d been treating you differently; why he’d chosen to spend more time with the Slytherins than his own girlfriend.

Why he seemed to be angry with you for no good reason. Your studying had never bothered him before, but yesterday he yelled at you for not spending his only stretch of free time together.

I watched from afar, your forehead creased with concern. You distracted yourself with potions, your own personal academic safe space.

I wanted to wrap my arms around you. To console you. To tell you I never meant for you to hurt.

I wanted to kiss away your worry, to shower you with simple pecks on every piece of your face.

But instead, I watched, knowing what had to be done. I could only hope I’d find the strength to do so.

I waited until you were alone, still pouring over your studies at a secluded table in the common room. Everyone else had gone to bed, but not you. Your willpower has always astounded me.

My stomach was in knots, a certain match to the lump hanging in the back of my throat. I approached you cautiously, hands shaking at my unspoken deed.

When you saw me, you immediately marked your place and closed the textbook. I’d never seen you do that for Ron before.

“Hey, Pansy. Late night for you, too?”

I nodded, unable to speak. Taking a seat, I fidgeted with my hands. They were already shaking.

You noticed this immediately, taking your own hand and placing it atop my own. I never deserved your kindness.

“What’s wrong?” You asked concernedly, and I braced myself for the inevitable.

“Granger, I have to tell you something.”

“What is it, Pans? You can tell me anything.”

I found myself blushing at the nickname but willingly pressed myself forward.

“It’s Ron, Hermione-“

“He broke up with me today.”

My mouth dropped. “What?”

Your face softened into a solemn expression that told me everything I needed to know.

“He said we were better as friends. And, quite honestly, I can’t disagree. But I have this itching feeling, Pansy, that there’s more to it than that...”

“He’s in love with Blaise.” The words were rushed and barely audible, but you’ve always been keen. Your mouth dropped, but you quickly composed yourself. Folding your hands in your lap, your entire body stiffened.

To the outsider, you were fine. Minimally perturbed, but fine. I knew better. Your heart was breaking all over again.

“I should’ve known,” you whispered, eyes glassy with tears. “He’s been acting so strange ever since that party...”

Your gaze shifted to some far off place as you collected your thoughts.

“Hermione, there’s more.” My voice cracked, something my pride had never allowed prior to this moment.

You wiped your tears and refocused on my face. “What is it?”

“I charmed the bottle.”

“What?”

“The game. Spin the bottle. I was trying to hook up Malfoy with Potter. It worked.” I paused, my own tears beginning to surface.

“But I had no idea that this would happen. I didn’t know that it would cause problems. I didn’t- I didn’t-“

“Pansy!” You stood up, voice sharp with contempt. “You spelled the bottle to do what exactly?”

“To land on the people who shared the most chemistry.”

“But- but that means...” your expression softened, and I noticed you bite your lip.  
Gathering your composure, you seemed to sort out your thoughts before looking at me once more.

“You lied to us, Pansy. all of us. Draco and Harry would’ve confessed their feelings in their own time, when THEY were ready. You can’t play God, Parkinson!”

Your hands were shaking now, and I reached to take one into my own. You pulled it immediately away, and that hurt.

But I knew I deserved it.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I never meant for this to happen.”

“Save it, Pansy. You’ve done enough damage.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and headed to our dormitory.

I didn’t dare move. That would make all of this real, and that wasn’t something I was ready for. So I slept, slouched over on the table uncomfortably, until dawn broke.

The world was fuzzy and unreal as I realized where I was. And then reality was crashing down on me, flashing with memories of the night before.

Like a bad joke, I noticed you emerge from the dormitory with your bag in hand, dressed and ready for breakfast. For a moment, your eyes met mine through a curtain of disheveled hair that I pushed from my face immediately. I looked and felt like complete hell.

Without a word, you snapped your gaze from mine and left the common room. It was a while before I finally brought myself to shower and get ready for the day’s lesson.

Breakfast was just something I decided to skip.

I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I need you to know that I’m sorry. It was never intended to be like this.

Love,  
Pansy


	5. Chapter 5

Dear Granger,

It’s been a week since we’ve spoken. Blaise and Ron are openly dating now, but you seem too absorbed in your studies to pay them mind.

I saw you and Weasley exchange a few words the other day, and it seemed as if you were on good enough terms. Maybe your friendship together will prevail after all. Isn’t that the goal here?

I wish ours had that power.

You seem lonely these days. Blaise and Ron keep double dating with Draco and Harry and I can see the hurt run across your face when they’re all together. I’ve been by myself a lot, too.

I’ve decided that maybe there’s something to all this studying you do, and it’s become somewhat of a hobby of mine these past couple of days.

Merlin, I can’t believe I just said that. I guess you’ve rubbed off on me more than you know.

At least I’ll be passing Arithmancy with flying colors.

Love,  
Pansy

&&&

Dear Granger,

We go home for holidays in less than a week. I’m really not sure why I continue to write these wretched letters; it’s not like they’ll do me any good.

I’m drowning here without you.

Love,  
Pansy


	6. Chapter 6

Dear Granger,

The most magnificent thing happened today. 

Ginny was passing out Christmas ornaments that she’d made, and she handed you the most intricately painted red cardinal.

“I’m not sure why, but this one made me think of you, ‘Mione,” she smiled softly, and your face lit up the entire room.

“It’s beautiful, Ginny! I love it!” You skipped to the common room tree and hung the little bird on a branch all on its own. The Muggle way.

Seeing you grin, it was beautiful. I caught myself smiling more than I had at all since our fight.

You turned back, and for the first time in over a week, your eyes met mine.

I expected yours to narrow or for you to snap away. But chocolate eyes held steady, and I felt my breath catch in my chest. Your lips pulled upward in an ever so subtle fashion, but I was frozen. After a moment, you went to pull Ginny in for a hug.

Did I imagine it? Was this all some sort of daydream? We weren’t snogging (or doing anything inappropriate for that matter), so I suppose it wasn’t the latter.

Either way, I hope you know how grateful I am for that moment. Seeing you smile, and at ME, was an unexpected miracle that brightened my entire day.

Thanks Granger.

Love,  
Pansy


	7. Chapter 7

Dear Granger,

I was studying today (my new pastime- yay) when I heard a chair scoot out right next to me. I snapped up, ready to let Blaise have it for interrupting me for the fifth time. But it wasn’t Blaise, or even Draco.

It was you.

“Pansy,” you said, taking a seat. “What are you studying?”

I was ecstatic that you were even speaking to me.

“Arithmancy.” I said with a sigh, allowing my forehead to hit the book exasperatedly. Surprisingly, you laughed.

“You’re marks are up, Parkinson. Should I be worried?”

“What, that you won’t be number one in our class?” I said with a smirk, and you laughed out loud.

“No, silly. You’ve just never cared so much about your grades.”

“It’s a good distraction.” I admitted, open and raw. I didn’t want to hide anything from you anymore.

Your forehead creased again, but relaxed after a moment.

“I’ve missed you, Pansy. Did you know that?”

My breath hitched. I froze, unable to answer with such a proclamation hanging in the air around us.

Your lips pulled upward again in that crooked smile that made me fall for you. I’m sure my face was priceless.

“I’m sorry.” You tilted your head sideways in a concentrated manner, no doubt assessing my vitals. When you seemed satisfied that I was indeed alive, you continued.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking, and I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with you. You really did have good intentions, even if I don’t agree with your actions. And there was no way you could’ve known the outcome of that situation.” You paused, contemplating.

“Ronald and I really were better off as friends. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, in a sense. I wish it wouldn’t have happened this way, but we needed to end. And Ronald and I both deserve to be happy.”

You took my hands, holding them warm against your own.

“He’s happy with Blaise, Pansy. And, honestly? That’s thanks to you.”

You looked deep into my eyes, genuine and earnest and- Merlin, you’re beautiful, Hermione...

“But what about you, Granger?” I squeaked, barely able to form syllables at this point. “Are you happy?”

“I am now.” Your stare was unwavering, and I felt a shiver flow through my spine. My breath quickened; I tried to process what exactly you meant to say.

“I feel happy when I’m with you. Ron seeking out Blaise made me realize that ever since the war ended...I’ve been seeking out you.”

My thoughts were a jumbled mess of crap at this point. You must’ve known this, because you laughed lightly at my misfortune.

“I’ve never seen you so uncollected,” you admitted with that crooked twitch of your lips that sent my head reeling again. Your laugh was the only thing that kept me grounded. I felt a grin pull at my own face.

“I’m a fucking mess for you, Granger.” I shook my head at my own silly inability to process what was happening. “I’ve missed you, too. More than you could possibly know.”

“Well, then.” Your smile glowed bright against the twinkle of the lights behind you. “What do you say we pick up where we left off?”

I felt a giddy smirk overtake any trace of a frown I’d been holding. “As best friends?”

“Oh, no, Parkinson. We are so much more than that.” You raised an eyebrow facetiously, and I let out an excited giggle that I never realized I was holding back.

You leaned your face forward, and I gave a quick glance around the room to ensure our privacy.

I wasn’t expecting to see a mop of red hair in the very corner of my peripheral vision, hidden by the shadows of the dormitory hallway. I almost announced his presence... until I realized he was smiling softly in our direction. His wand was held forward, and he flicked it softly with a playful grin.

That’s when I noticed something transfiguring, morphing, and growing from above our heads. I craned my neck upward, gaze following the movements of Weasley’s magic.

Your eyes followed, and you let out a soft gasp at the sight of a fresh branch of mistletoe unfolding above our heads.

I smiled knowingly, ready to indulge upon the chance to make you mine. From behind you, I saw Weasley wink in our direction before turning around and heading back to his dorm.

His untold blessing felt more liberating than I ever would’ve imagined.

That’s when I closed the distance between us, making every fantasy a miraculous reality that I refused to let go.

Your lips were gentle and warm like the fire roaring before us. They pressed willingly into mine, a soft pressure that felt undeniably real. All fear escaped me; all doubt diminished. There was nothing left in the world but us, our kiss, and the future we were bound to share.

I felt your lips tug upward around mine, and I returned the smile with a feather light realization that the brave, methodical hero named Hermione Granger was actually kissing me.

I wrapped my fingers in locks of bushy brown hair, tugging you closer as your lips parted between mine.

The moist heat of your mouth crashing into my own was something no dream could touch. This was the real deal, and it was absolute heaven. Your hands found the folds of my robes and pulled me closer, fingernails digging into Slytherin green.

Hermione Granger, you are an excellent kisser.

When we separated, your smile was everlasting. You looked deep into my eyes, chocolate meeting jade.

“Thank you, Pansy. For this. For everything.”

I flashed you my most award-winning grin. “Does this mean we have to go on triple dates with the homo-bros?”

You laughed heartily. “I think it’d be quite fun, personally. Watching Draco and Harry bicker over who’s the better everything has ceased to lose its entertainment.”

My thoughtful expression gave me away, I’m sure. I sat my chin in the palm of my hand, eyes still locked with yours.

“What I would give to spend the rest of my life bickering with you, Granger.” 

Your stance mirrored my own, elbow propped on the table and hand holding your chin comfortably.

“Sounds like a deal, doesn’t it?”

“Deal.”

You are the light of my life, Granger. Don’t ever forget that.

Love,   
Pansy


	8. Chapter 8

Dear Granger,

Today we went on our first ever triple date, and I must say I rather enjoyed myself. 

It turns out, watching my best friend bicker senselessly with his boyfriend was a whole new level of entertaining. 

“Let’s be serious, Potter, I’m the better kisser.”  
“You wish, Malfoy!”  
“Prove it, then!”

I face palmed as the two began to snog. You giggled at my lack of enthusiasm and whispered in my ear:

“We should be doing that.”

Your breath was hot against my ear and encouraged the thoughts I’d been stifling in favor of minimizing PDA (I know you hate it). I froze rigid, and you placed a kiss on the space below my other ear.

At the conclusion of our date, fate found us discovering each other on my four poster. The dorm was vacant, allowing the privacy we needed to find every inch of each other.

Your head fell soft against my pillow as I crawled on top of you, mid-snog. I gently nudged your head to the side, planting kisses along the hollow base of your neck.

It was at this point that you paused curiously, shifting your head to reveal the sound of crinkling paper from beneath the down feathers of the pillow.

I blushed, cheeks burning as you slipped your hand beneath the silk case to retrieve a stack of letters. Letters I’d written to you.

Your eyes glanced over the papers, quickly realizing what you were holding. You immediately began to pour over the pages, pausing periodically to meet eyes before you continued.

I didn’t stop you; not when your brow furrowed or when you laughed out loud at what you’d read; When you bit your lip solemnly or grinned wholesome. I let you read every inch of parchment I’d filled, pouring my soul out in a fashion so personal that it had the potential of destruction.

At the end of the last letter, you rested the parchment on the bed before your chocolate eyes, glassy with tears, glanced over every part of me.

I didn’t dare speak or move, unsure of your thoughts or what your next move would be. Self-preservation at its finest.

But instead of rejection, you lifted a hand to rest against my cheek.

“My God, Pansy. I’m in love with you.”

I released the breath I’d been holding, a hot and heavy reprieve to my anxiety. I laughed, and you joined, until we were positively silly.

I wiped grateful tears from your eyesand stroked the side of your head affectionately, more than thankful for this moment.

“I love you, too, Granger.”

You kissed me. Hard and whole and complete. Our lips mashed together and there was absolutely nothing held back. No traces of you or me existed... only us.  
And we were beautiful.

And we still are.

The train leaves home for holidays tomorrow, and I wanted to leave you one more letter to think of me while we’re apart. I’m sure you’ll be apparating to my bedroom, but that’s not the point.

Don’t give me that look, Granger. You know you want to apparate into my bedroom!

Anyways, thank you, my love. For the happiness you continue to give me everyday. For everything that you are and are growing to be.

Merry Christmas, Granger. I will always be here to tell you how wonderful you are.

Love,

Pansy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Merry Christmas! ☺️


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